


Pearls and Whips

by RigelTrash



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alucard is a stripper, M/M, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23421661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RigelTrash/pseuds/RigelTrash
Summary: A collection of random TrevorCard oneshots since someone's gotta feed the homiesFuture tags and any characters added in will be added to the tags as I add more stories into this hell.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31





	Pearls and Whips

**Author's Note:**

> In which Trevor goes to a strip club and meets a weird blond stripper. 
> 
> Hijinks ensue and it ends on a wild note.

Loud, flashy, the stench of sweat and desperation, it was a clean establishment but if one dared call it family friendly, either they were blind or an idiot. 

It was such an establishment that it was only natural Trevor Belmont would be sitting in a booth, watching the almost completely nude bodies twirling and grinding against poles. 

His gaze never lingered on any of the dancers long, his focus was on the pint of beer he had in hand. He was used to shitty music playing in the background but he wasn't used to hearing names being announced, let alone masculine names. 

Glancing up at the main stage, cerulean eyes landed upon a pale body, one that was long and thin, yet it still maintained that sense of masculinity that confirmed that this new dancer was, as a matter of fact, a male.

"Adrian... That's a lame stripper name." Trevor was never one to filter himself, he had a habit of saying something that would piss off someone and that would start a bar fight, the only reason he was still at this shitty, as he would call it, club was because he had a seperate space from the other patrons.

The man that stood on the stage was odd, pale was an understatement, his skin was whiter than bread, he had long hair that looked almost silver, were it not for the lack of wrinkles and sagging breast, Trevor probably would have mistaken him for an old woman.

And were it not for the way the man, Adrian, dropped to the floor with more grace than a damn piece of silk twirling in the air, the brunette would have turned his attention back to his booze. 

The blond was wearing bright pink heels that looked to be easily taller than a damn head and the man was prancing around, spinning on the damn pole as if it was something he did every day. 

If Trevor tried to deny that the fluid movements of pallid legs raising above a halo of hair didn't excite him, he'd be a shit liar, and the way he was staring at the dancer was proof enough. 

There was an air of confidence that radiated from the mystery dancer, and with each piece of clothing that came off, more questions were raised. His body was almost completely white save for the nasty scar that still complimented his slim, yet toned body. 

His waist was skinny, so much so that it looked as if he wore a corset that was never quite visible to the naked eye. 

What really caught Trevor's eye, was likely the deep crimson lace that barely managed to hide beneath the man's small spandex shorts, as if begging for anyone's attention. 

The music was as shitty as ever yet with a dancer as elegant as this Adrian guy, it became a lot more tolerable, that is, until his dance ended. Much too soon if Trevor had to be honest with himself. 

The only good thing to come out of the ridiculously entrancing dance was that he could return to staring into his beer with a scowl, but of course even that doesn't get to happen because a low "ahem" drew him out of his thoughts. 

There that damn blond man was, smug smile on his stupid pallid lips and Trevor found himself adoring that damned grin, wanting to feel what those stupid lips would be like. 

"You seem to be enjoying yourself." His voice was deeper than Trevor had expected, it wasn't an unwelcome voice.

"Yeah, if watching a bunch of men go nuts over seein' a tit or two is supposed to be fun, color me as having the time of my life!" That drew a laugh from those damn lips, he hadn't meant to make the man laugh and yet here he sat, staring at slightly parted, almost completely white, lips. 

It was agitating, the dumbass was your run of the mill pretty boy and yet Trevor couldn't bring himself to start another bar fight, couldn't bring himself to bruise his stupid pretty face. 

"I take it you're new here based on that surprised expression you had when I came out on stage." And there he was, trying to strike up a conversation again. Were it not for the fact that he made sure he looked presentable, Trevor would have thought there was a big 'Come talk to me, I'm friendly!' sign stapled to his forehead. 

"Usually don't come by on the weekends, studying for school and shit. So anyways, why the hell were you lookin' at me during your little show and why the hell're you sitting in front of me with nothing but damn lace on?" The Belmont liked to think he could maintain a pokerface, of course based on the blond's reaction, he was doing a shit job at it. 

"I don't see a lot of big men with scars on their face here, usually just old men and the typical sleazy men that try to touch us without paying. You looked lonely and I figured you could you use some company and it seems like I was right." That damn smile was back and all Trevor wanted to do was take a picture to stare at it later. 

It was embarrassing. One, he was staring at the damn stripper and two, he had completely forgotten about his beer. What made things worse is the large smile that he felt slowly growing upon his own face. 

"I don't mind the company but it's really fucking weird talking to a guy wearing red lacey panties and boots that are larger than my skull, nevermind the fact that you're talking to me as if you've known me all your life." Those seemed like perfectly valid points in his mind until he actually said it. He felt stupid after that, obviously it would be weird to converse with an almost naked man who rivaled Eros himself in beauty. 

"Well, there's no reason we can't befriend each other since you're clearly a regular. You intrigue me, I don't even know your name and yet here I am. What do you say to getting a cup of--" Trevor cut the blond off with a raise of his hand. 

"Belmont, Trevor Belmont. If you're about to ask to meet up for coffee, I'll have to decline. Maybe when you're off work we can go out drinking, because I don't do the whole coffee date thing." Immediate regret bashed into his skull as soon as the words left his mouth, if not for how ridiculous it sounded then for the fact that the stripper nodded ecstatic, blond curls bobbing around his shoulders. 

Maybe it was a mistake to come to a damn strip club for his usual drinks, but the way he heard Adrian repeat his name, as if it were some holy psalm, drove him mad. 

The rest of the night was a blur, there were simple questions being asked, a tongue being shoved down his throat, and when he woke up, he wasn't even in his own bed let alone his own apartment. 

"Morning, Belmont."

"Holy fucking shit.."


End file.
